Good
by Mazzie May
Summary: COMPLETE Wesker wasn't always God, he was human once. He cared. There was one little blonde girl, in particualr. T for swearing. R&R Please


**Author's Note: I promised **Umbrella's Worst Enemy** this fic, a dedication.**

**Summary: Wesker wasn't always God, he was human once. He cared.**

**Rating: T for swearing.**

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Good

_By: Mazzie May_

Albert Wesker flipped through Ada's report, mildly displeased with her performance. He'd monitored her every moment and she deliberately disobeyed him. _Maybe you forgot, Wesker; but I don't always play by your rules._ He'd scoffed; like she didn't owe him everything. Well, what could be done? Ada was a hard woman to train, and to be honest, he enjoyed her spunkiness.

Of course, she'd disobeyed him to keep Leon alive. She plays it off as not liking Krauser, but Wesker knew why; it was the same reason he let Redfield get away all the time. They were fun to play with. Wesker had toyed with Christopher Michael Redfield for over the last six years and enjoyed every minute of it. When Leon Scott Kennedy entered the scene and Ada nearly botched her mission because of it, he'd felt a needle of doubt towards the whole situation, wondering when it would be best to kill him. But Ada had assured him it wasn't because she had feelings for him, and Wesker felt a small swell of pride when she explained how she had taken up her form of harassing the agent.

That besides, he genuinely liked her as a person. She'd been honest and easily proved that the money he spent on her over the last six years was well spent. She hadn't lied at all when she'd told Krauser that Wesker would let him die in a moment, but would've at least sent HUNK to her aid if she was in that bad of jam. She wasn't anywhere near as loyal as HUNK, but then, few were. Wesker's mouth twitched, a whisper of a smile. If Wesker lost his head, HUNK would promptly remove his, saying, "Here sir, take mine."

That said he was glad she went against him so that day. He'd been angry and hadn't thought about what a great favor Leon had been doing him the last six years.

He half tossed, half dropped her report on his desk. It was perfectly arranged, not a thing out of place, but the file landed on top of six airline tickets; two for him, two for Ada and two for HUNK. Three heading to Washington DC, Maryland; the flight was at eleven twenty AM, on Tuesday the six of June. The other three were heading back here, at six forty-five PM, Tuesday the six of June.

Ada had eyed him suspiciously when he'd informed her of the trip, but she simply sighed and sauntered away to find something suitable to wear. HUNK just nodded and then left, uncomfortable having to pick out civilian clothes. Wesker considered having him wait in the Hummer, but then decided, to heck with it, he was going to show his most loyal man his pride and joy.

Sharon Lynn Kennedy was graduating high school and he planned on being there.

Wesker and William had been friends a good few years before Sharon was born. Originally, he'd thought it a nuisance, assuming William would want to spend more time with his child and wife than on his research. He'd been half right; William took all his work home, which forced Wesker to more-or-less live in the Birkin residence for a good number of years.

Annette hated Wesker with a fire passion that he shared for her. As silly has it sounded, they both fought over William; Wesker wanting him working back at the lab and Annette wanting him working at home. In the midst of it everything, they'd all but forgotten a small blonde baby.

In the end, Annette won out and William remained at their home. With noticeable irritation, Wesker would go through paper work and review his friend's reports to kill time, but he'd grow tired of it quickly. So, to occupy himself he'd play with the little Birkin girl.

She was shy for all of five minutes before laughing and bouncing and enjoying what attention he gave her. Just sitting on his leg while he high-lighted notes seem to make her content, revealing just how much time her parents actually spent with her. She was a quiet baby; probably having realized crying never achieved anything. What he found quite astonishing was that he didn't _really_ have to feed her; she held the bottle on her own, and just opened her mouth for the food. No struggle, no games. She just did it. Annette probably just handed her the bottle and walked away, and the little girl was probably so eager to keep her parents focused on her she never fussed when it came to eating.

Her parents called her 'Sherry', but he always used her full name (he'd always thought nicknames were unprofessional) and she never seemed to mind. He talked to her while he worked on a report or filed information, telling her what he was doing, explaining the information, telling her who wrote it and making rude remarks about them and his superiors. She looked up at him as he spoke and looked to where ever he was pointing, as though she really understood what he was saying.

He removed his sunglasses, folding them neatly and laying on top of Ada's report before leaning back in his chair, staring out the sky light. He remembered the exact moment when Sharon was no longer theirs but his. She was one and a half, and he'd set down a stack of pictures. She pointed to the one on the very top, a vile filled with a white syrupy substance.

She said, "Baysss." He didn't even have to blink. _Baysss_ was actually 'Base'. She'd pointed to the vaccine base and acknowledged it. He hadn't realized it right away, but he'd picked her up and held her high, smiling at her. Not only did he witness her first word but he'd taught it to her, too. Sociopaths tended to love one thing other than them. Wesker decided that Sharon was going to be that thing.

At age two, he had her learning to walk. Annette and William had started returning to the labs and left Sharon with Wesker, and he refused to carry her everywhere. Regardless of how much he liked her, he had standards. Everyone around him would be self sufficient, including this two year old girl. He'd review test results and budget reports, while pacing slowly, Sharon waddling after him all the while. She rarely got tired of this and seemed to like moving around, but she never wandered off or complained.

When she hit pre-school, her parents had her enrolled in the most private school they could find in Raccoon, St. Michael's Catholic School for the Faithful. Of course, they weren't religious, but the more private the school the better as far as Umbrella was concerned. St. Michael's was also known as the school where only Umbrella employees could send their children.

She'd finger paint and doodle and make macaroni masks, but rarely showed them to her parents; the ones she did present were waved off with mumbles of "That's nice" without even a glance. She'd keep them safe in her room until Wesker arrived. She'd wait for him to finish his business with her parents and then lead him upstairs to show off her works of art that she'd lain in a perfectly straight line on her bed. All of them were hideous, of course, but he'd point to one that was nicer than the rest, say it was his favorite and then pat her on the head whilst she beamed.

He got to keep all his "favorites".

When Sharon was learning her colours, her parents feel short, once again. William had just stumbled upon the basic steam for the G-virus, and everyone was very excited. Wesker, however, seemed to be the only one to notice that a small girl was waiting in an empty house for someone to acknowledge her existence and help her arrange a rainbow. The Birkin house was all kinds of white and, with the exception of Sharon's curtains and bed spread which were yellow, that was all it was. She didn't go outside much, except when some clean shaven grunt walked her from the front door to the SUV for a drive to school and back. She didn't even go outside at recess. She was colourless.

Wesker found it quite sad to see her struggling with the basic 'ROY G BIV', and showed up one day with his documents in coloured folders. When he was done with his paper work, she'd rearrange the folders in the right order. Then, he'd turn her away, mess it up, and have her do it again. It only took fifteen minutes of effort and the four year old had it down.

That was basically the same way he taught her the alphabet, only there were twenty-six folders, each with a letter on the label. That took about an hour, but she eventually got it all right. Wesker had been mildly amused when she practiced, singing the Alphabet as she placed each folder, slowing down the song when she couldn't find the corresponding letter in the mix.

Math had been a mess, and Wesker remembered when he had a new found hate for flash cards. Unlike most children, she was eager to do math and Wesker thought that with that kind of enthusiasm, they'd be through addition, subtraction, division, multiplication and would've started on decimals by the end of the night. They made it to addition. After several frustrating hours Wesker gladly headed to the labs when Annette called. He told Sharon to put the cards away and that they'd try tomorrow. She nodded.

Wesker stayed late at the office that night and had just nodded off when his cell phone rang, a ranting Annette on the other end. When she and William returned home, they'd found their daughter a crying mess. She was frustrated to the point of tears; apparently, she'd been trying to put the flash cards in numerical order, but couldn't. He could hear her wail in the background that she was 'good' with numbers and that she could count to a hundred and that she knew how to put things away, so why couldn't she do this.

Annette had been _furious. _Wesker wasn't thrilled, either. William had been thoroughly confused.

Wesker stretched, thinking of all the parental arguments with Annette. She tried to be parent, Wesker would give her that. She'd be there for school plays, science fairs, parent/teacher conferences. William never showed, absorbed in his work. Annette bitterly pointed out on Sharon's fifth grade Christmas Play that William wasn't doing half as much work as Wesker was, and yet Wesker still found the time to appear for all of these things that were important to Sharon. In fact, many faculty members and students thought Wesker _was_ her father and that the way he and Annette acted implied a messy divorce. It was a strange thought, but a good point; not only was he dealing with his Umbrella related matters, but also his day job as the captain of the Raccoon City STARS Alpha Division.

He kept a copy of Sharon's school picture on his desk at work, and lots of secretaries and STARS members commented on what a cute little girl she was. Barry Burton in particular made constant conversation about her. He had two girls of his own, younger than Sharon, and was always asking how Wesker handled this problem or another. He really couldn't explain it, but Wesker truly looked forward to these conversations with the large man, and enjoyed the swell of pride when he spoke about her good grades and achievements.

It was late one evening when Wesker was working with Barry and Enrico Marini, the Bravo captain. The night shift of STARS members had run down to the cafeteria for a quick bite, so it was only the three of them. The murders had started. And after looking at the reports, it took Wesker all of two seconds to realize what was happening and that he wouldn't be sleeping for the next month.

He should've been off shift two hours ago, and it was nearing nine o'clock. The "oh shit, somebody fucked up, what the hell are we going to do about it" meeting Umbrella was hosting at the labs started at ten thirty. He needed to leave in about fifteen minutes if he wanted to make it, but the lost looks on Barry and Marini's faces told Wesker that he'd better call and inform William he'd be late.

Goddammit, he hated being late.

He reached for the receiver and dialed the number absent mindedly. A small voice answered and he sat up a little straighter. He asked her what she was doing up so late, and she mumbled that she'd been waiting up for him. He took a slightly sterner tone and told her it was late, that she needed sleep and to get to bed. She asked if he was still coming over. He told her he was sorry but by the time he'd be there, she'd be fast asleep and that he'll see tomorrow. With a kind good night he hung up.

As he pulled his hand away from the phone he realized he never delivered his message, distracted by the thought of the small little girl staying up so late. He felt eyes on him and turned a little to see a grinning Barry and Marini. He raised an eyebrow. Like a true father, Barry had commented, to call his kid to make sure they're alright. Marini nodded, saying that he and Barry had already checked in.

Wesker smiled a little back at them, fighting to keep himself from grinning, too.

As Wesker was leaving that night, Barry asked him if he was going to the Police Picnic this year. Wesker replied that he wasn't, just like last year. Barry gave him a look saying he should come, and then grinned. _You should bring Sharon! Everyone would love to meet Albert Wesker's daughter._

Wesker hadn't told any of them that Sherry wasn't his. Well, biologically. The way he saw it, he raised her, taught her everything she knows, spends more time with her than either of her parents, and she loves him more than she loves them. She was _his_.

He smiled and said perhaps, but until these murders were solved he wasn't letting her out of the house. This was true enough, since he'd told her to stick very close to the bodyguard that transported her to school and back and not to go anywhere else. She listened. Both men nodded in grim agreement.

And then, his world fell apart. Wesker sighed, stacking his folders, getting ready to leave the office. Something went wrong with Bravo 'copter, something he hadn't expected, and then Brad Vickers left them stranded at the Spencer house. He thought up a new plan quickly, remembering all of his father-to-father talks with Barry, and nearly succeeded in getting out of there, getting back to Sharon.

But the estate blew up, and took most of him with it. A couple of band-aids here, a few stitches there, a coma for two and half months and Wesker was better than ever. That was when his ultimate plan was put into action, with a few alterations; William was dead, and although Wesker was saddened by this, he'd have to find another way to retrieve the virus. Enter Ada Wong. HUNK was already in Raccoon. The second change in plan was Sharon. After finding out how terrible things had become during his "nap", Wesker had hopped that at least Annette would've had the sense to send Sharon away.

Instead, he learned she was still in Raccoon somewhere. As badly as Wesker wanted to find her, he couldn't in his current state and was just going to have to hope, something he hadn't done in decades, that she'd hole up somewhere safe until the worst had blown over, and that HUNK was able to find her.

But HUNK and Ada barely got out of the underground labs with their lives and were too injured to do anything but cut their losses and run. _At least you got the sample_ Ada reminded him as they watched satellite monitor project the image of nuked Raccoon. For some reason, that knowledge didn't cheer him up as much as it should have.

Two years later, in the midst of setting up the board for the ultimate check mate, Ada brought something to his attention. They'd been keeping track of all the possible threats to their plans and Leon Kennedy was one of them. Ada informed that whilst HUNK was checking video surveillance on him, he noticed a small blonde girl with him, who he called "Sher".

It took about a days worth of checking records, but there was no doubt about it. Sharon was in current custody of Leon.

HUNK's offer to go and retrieve the girl was the first time he'd ever spoken something that wasn't a response. HUNK would willingly go out of his way to bring back Sharon. Ada said she'd go, too. And for free, no less! _Call it a birthday present. _Wesker had been rather touched by the idea behind the "present", but declined.

Sharon was enjoying herself and she seemed to finally be comfortable with her surroundings. More than that, Wesker didn't want to see her. And he still didn't, even now. He was so close to winning this game, he couldn't afford such a large distraction, like Sharon. He'd continue to keep up on her birthdays and other holidays, making sure she always received something from him and if she was ever in any danger, he'd make sure she was out of it quickly.

Over the years, though, whatever effects Sharon had ever had on Wesker slowly died away with bits of his humanity. He hardly thought about her anymore, and when he did, it was always in wonder about how she had so much control of her him. But she was still there, in a lot of ways. Sometimes, he'd surprise himself when he saw a brightly coloured folder, or catch himself pacing slower than usual, like he was waiting for someone to catch up. When he stood still for too long, he could feel a heaviness on his leg and looked down, half expecting to see a blonde toddler looking up at him. When he was working too late, he'd reach for the phone, and begin dialing a number that had long since been disconnected.

He'd go to her graduation and see his hard work pay off, and he'd get her alone long enough to get just one picture. Something to frame and hang up with his other "favorites".

Something to remind him he was whole once, and look back on in years, thinking that that was one part of his life that held only one regret; that it didn't last long enough. And when his final step was made and his long term goal had been achieved, maybe he'd go back to her, take her away with him to a place she'd be truly safe and just maybe they could be happy, like they used to be. Like they should've been.

As Wesker shut off the light in his office, just for a moment he felt good. Not great, not superior, not maniacal, not God.

Just good.

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**Author's Note: Whee! I'm actually in love with this idea. _TheDonutMistress_ and I had always tossed this idea around, but neither of us could do anything with it. Then, after a conversation with _Umbrella's Worst Enemy_**, **I thought, yeah, alright, I can do this. So, there, a story for the both of you!**

**R&R please.**


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